


Sing A Reckless Serenade

by twilightstargazer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Relationship, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9794741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightstargazer/pseuds/twilightstargazer
Summary: After an almost minute of silence, she finally relents, “I need you guys to help me with a work thing.”A hefty pause. And then-“What kind of work thing?” James asks, warily.Lily takes a breath. It seemed like a brilliant idea last night, when she was more than three drinks under, but now in the light of day it just seems… pathetic. Still though, she needs help, and needs it soon, so she finds herself blurting out:“I need you to fake date me for a week.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> is there a rom com like this out there?? i'm pretty sure the hallmark channel would have made a movie like this already. title from arctic monkey's reckless serenade.

Lily’s not really a Valentine’s Day kind of person. In fact, Lily is definitely not Valentine’s Day person, to the point where she has a ten minute monologue prepared and on hand at all times to disparage the holiday.

 

“It’s commercialism at it’s finest and all it does is make you feel sad if you don’t have someone. And even if you do have someone, you shouldn’t treat them special once a year; you should-”

 

“-Never take them for granted and appreciate them every day,” Marlene intones flatly, adding another swipe of mascara to her lashes. “Yes, I know Lily dear. You’ve told me at least  _ seventeen times _ in the past week. At this point I’m sure I can rattle it off from memory alone. In my sleep.”

 

She doesn’t quite pout, but comes startlingly close to it, throwing a dirty look at her from where she’s spread out on the bed.

 

“Well it still stands true,” she sniffs, “It’s a huge waste of money; flowers die after a week, the chocolates are always half off from the day after, and teddy bears are just  _ stupid _ .”

 

“Right, well if it is that stupid, then just tell your editor that you don’t want to take part in this project,” she says, slamming the mascara tube down a bit too hard on her vanity. “Problem solved.”

 

Lily groans again. “I can’t do that, Mar. For one, I would be the only one pulling out, and two, some of the things are actually sort of… interesting,” she says meekly.

 

Marlene turns around to stare at her, unimpressed. “What happened to it being capitalist propaganda?”

 

“It’s not capitalist propaganda if you’re getting a two for one deal. Well I mean, it is, but it’s not  _ as much _ .”

 

“Then I really don’t know what to tell you, Lily,” she sighs, spritzing perfume over her dress, “Do it, don’t do it, it’s up to you, but I swear to god if I hear you complain one more time about having to find a date to do a bunch of stupid Valentine’s Day things with for work, then I’m going to gag you.”

 

She wrinkles her nose delicately. “Please don’t. Save that for your girlfriend instead.”

 

She probably deserves the shoe that nails her in the forehead.

* * *

 

 

See, she’s accustomed to her job asking her to do weird things from time to time- including, but not limited to, completing an entire obstacle course in six inch heels, eating nothing supposed superfoods for two weeks, and microblading her eyebrows. So in all honesty, getting a chance to go on several groupon dates to test and see which one is the best, is pretty normal by her standards.

 

At least, it’s normal until Lily realises that she needs to find a date for them. Either that or turn them over to someone else which. No, not gonna happen.

 

“Fuck,” she whines, dropping her head down atop her desk as soon as her editor is out of sight.

* * *

 

 

It’s not like it’s going to be hard to find a date, right? She’s a fairly attractive twenty seven year old. She’s good at going home with boys and girls alike at the bar when she wants to, but this is a bit different than a normal hook up. This is getting someone to pretend to date you for seven whole days and do a bunch of wacky things.

 

Still, Lily is confident in her abilities to land a temporary date. After all, how hard can this be?

 

* * *

 

“This is really fucking hard,” she moans against Mary’s shoulder while Marlene heads back to bar to fetch them another round of drinks. “Why is this so fucking hard?”

 

Mary is at least a bit more sympathetic than Marlene is, petting back her hair. “I’m sure we can find someone for you.”

 

“Can I borrow Reg?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then how am I supposed to find someone?”

 

“There are other people out there besides my boyfriend, you know,” she says as she starts pulling her hair back into a braid. “Why don’t you ask Sirius? I’m sure he has a few model friends who wouldn’t mind helping you out.”

 

An idea sparks in her head and she sits up abruptly, damaging Mary’s handywork. “Actually… you might be onto something there,” she says, immediately grabbing one of the shots Marlene returned with and downing it in one go.

 

“Oh god, what did I miss?” the other girl asks, eyeing Lily suspiciously.

 

Mary just sighs. “It seems that Lily has come up with a way to fix her Valentine’s Day problem.”

 

Marlene stares at them for a beat before downing a shot herself and slumping back down into her seat. “I’m going to need to be a lot more drunk for this.”

* * *

 

 

Li ly’s friendship with the Potter-Black household next door to her blossomed from a passive aggressive note war that came into being after their mail kept on getting mixed up. Apparently her issues of Cosmo were too  _ ‘tween’  _ for Vogue enthusiast Sirius Black.

 

(Meanwhile James prefers to eye them disdainfully from the corner and mutter ‘Capitalist scum’ under his breath.)

 

It’s a bond forged in the fire of judgemental family members and sealed in the way sharing two bottles of expired tequila can solidify a friendship.

 

And now she’s ready to put that friendship to the test.

 

“I come bearing gifts,” she announces the next day, waltzing into her neighbours’ apartment, dragging two bags of take out behind her as well as a six pack of hard lemonade. “You really should stop leaving your front door unlocked so often,” she says as she unpacks the bags, after Sirius shuffles out from wherever he was holed up, sniffing the air hopefully.

 

“Our flat is on the fifth floor,” he points out, grabbing the nearest container, “The building has a doorman. Honestly, if anyone manages to get past all of that in the light of day, they truly deserve to steal our shit.”

 

“Tell me more about what it’s like to grow up rich,” she deadpans, and Sirius just ruffles her hair, heading to the kitchen to grab some plates. It’s a thing of his. Lily is more than happy to eat straight out the cartons with the prepackaged plastic cutlery, but Sirius insists on actual  _ plates  _ and fucking  _ silverware _ .

 

It truly astounds her each and everyday that she somehow became  _ friends  _ with someone this pretentious.

 

“Where’s your other half?” she asks, appropriating the entire loveseat for herself. She tries not to moan as she sinks into the sinfully comfortable chair; she may rib them for having more money than they know what to do with, but it’s always in good fun. Especially if she gets to reap the benefits, like sprawling off on their leather set, or letting Sirius pick up the bill on their high end dinners every once in awhile.

 

“Somewhere,” he says airily, “Last I heard he said he was going to take a bath, as if his wrinkly ass didn’t already look like a prune. Oi Potter! Evans brought food!”

 

There’s some sort of muffled garble in response that she can’t make out for the life of her, but Sirius just nods and tells her, “He’ll be out in a mo’.”

 

True to his word, James is stumbling out of his bedroom with all the grace of a baby gazelle less than five minutes later, a damp towel hanging around his neck.

 

She gives him a cursory up-down before glancing back at Sirius, “You’re right; he  _ does  _ look more prune-like than usual.”

 

“Fuck you, Evans,” he says mildly while she and Sirius snicker and high five. “I heard there was food.”

 

“In the kitchen,” she hums before leaning over to steal the remote. Sirius glares balefully at her when she switches over to Parks and Rec. “Remus and Peter coming over later? I picked up the biriyani they like so much.”

 

“Yeah they might stop by- wait a second.” James stalks back out into the living room, his plate only half full. “You bought boti kebab.  _ And  _ splurged on kulfi faluda. What do you want, Evans?”

 

Lily bites back a curse. “What, can’t a girl just treat her friends after a hard day at work?” she asks, pasting what she hopes is a convincing innocent smile on her face. 

 

“She can,” he says, unimpressed, “But it's a lot more suspicious when she does it mere days after complaining about how expensive pizza delivery had gotten. So, one more time, what are you up to, Evans?”

 

She scowls at him, and James just smiles serenely back at her, knowing that he has her there.

 

After an almost minute of silence, she finally relents, “I need you guys to help me with a work thing.”

 

A hefty pause. And then-

 

“What kind of work thing?” James asks, warily.

 

Lily takes a breath. It seemed like a brilliant idea last night, when she was more than three drinks under, but now in the light of day it just seems… pathetic. Still though, she needs help, and needs it soon, so she finds herself blurting out:

 

“I need you to fake date me for a week.”

 

Behind her she can hear Sirius choke on a laugh, and she prays that her face isn’t as red as she thinks it is. 

 

Lily actually does like James despite their rocky start. He’s a good friend, loyal to the fault, and if she thinks he looks more than good with his messy, dark hair and glasses lying crooked on his nose, well, that’s her own damn problem.

 

It’s not like anyone else knows about this, and besides. It’s purely just aesthetic attraction. Because he’s aesthetically pleasing. That’s all.

 

(And as for the other stuff- the not so inconspicuous cuddling on the couch when their friends have movie nights, ordering things to split with each other at restaurants, stealing his t shirt that one time- well, she can blame that on aesthetic attraction too. Mostly.)

 

“What.” His eyebrows look as though they’re mere minutes away from disappearing up his hairline.

 

“Please.” She looks up at him, eyes open wide and lips curved into a slight pout.

 

He still looks skeptical, and Lily doubles the force of her puppy dog eyes.

 

“I don’t know,” he says, arms crossed as he appraises her. “You’re not really  _ selling  _ it to me here.”

 

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Lily sets down her plate and wipes her hands on her pants.

 

“James Potter,” she announces, voice wavering with the force of her declaration, as she gets down on one knee. Behind her she can hear Sirius losing his shit all over again, but she pays him no attention, instead focused on the boy in front of her biting the inside of his cheek in order not to laugh.

 

“James Potter,” she says again, pausing for dramatic effect, “Will you do me the absolute honour of being my pretend boyfriend for an entire week?”

 

“Oh my god,” he says, turning away so that she can’t see him smile.

 

He still makes her wait though, licking his lips as he pretends to consider it for a second, and Lily holds her breath the entire time before he nods. “Alright fine, I’m in. Text me the details.”

 

She doesn’t squeal, but she comes pretty damn close to, almost upending her plate in the process.

 

“You’re the  _ best _ ,” she tells him emphatically, “The absolute best. I’m going to name my first born after you. That’s how much of the best you are.”

 

He smiles at her, a kind of funny one if she really looked at it, but she’s far too busy floating on cloud nine to pay that much attention. “Trust me, Evans, it’s no hardship,” he says easily, and she grins at him once more.

 

Meanwhile Sirius is behind them, still shaking with silent laughter. “Oh I can’t wait to see how this turns out,” he cackles, leaning back and cracking open another can of hard lemonade as they hash out the details.

 

Lily ignores him. After all, she can totally manage to go on seven dates with James Potter without any problems, right?

 

* * *

 

 

Since it took Lily so long to get someone to agree to her plans, they go on their first date a mere two days after they’ve hashed out their game plan.

 

Or something like a game plan. Really, she just spent the entire time thanking him.

 

She’s just infinitely glad that they don’t have to actually fool anyone with this ruse. She’s not sure if she could have handled that in addition to working out the kinks in their date plans, and Lily rather not have grey hair before she turns thirty.

 

Their very first trip is to a new sushi place that opened up downtown. It’s on a Thursday, which means she has to start getting ready as soon she gets home from work if she has any chance of meeting their seven o’ clock reservations on time.

 

James knocks on her door while she’s still doing her makeup, so she yells, “It’s open, come in.”

 

There’s a squeak and a shuffle before there’s the soft snick of the lock and he says, “Wow, and you like to yell at us for leaving our door unlocked. Hypocrite much, Evans?”

 

She almost messes up her lipstick from how hard she’s grinning.

 

“I left it open because I knew you were coming over,” she says, finishing off with perfume before giving herself a cursory glance over in the full length mirror. She looks good, possibly even a bit too good considering that this isn’t a real date, but who cares.

 

(She’s not trying to look good for him okay? She just happens to like this dress, even if the neckline dips a bit too low for just friends. Besides, James has seen her in everything from stained flannel pyjamas to a sharp pantsuit, so he’s not going to care any more about her in a stupid dress than those. Shut up.)

 

“Still, I could’ve been an axe murderer or something,” he says, grinning when she finally walks out into the room. “‘Lo Evans.”

 

“Potter,” she nods, running a critical eye over him, “You clean up well.”

 

_ Well  _ is an understatement if she’s being honest. He’s always been attractive with his messy hair and lopsidedly smile, but standing here in a pair of slacks and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up is something else entirely. Lily has a thing for boys rolling their sleeves up, and James is no exception, especially when it bares his tanned and toned forearms.

 

She hastens to tear her eyes away from them and look back up at his face, pushing all thoughts of nice arms and tanned skin out of her mind. That kind of thinking is dangerous, especially for the rouse they’re trying to pull off. James on his part looks equally entranced by the scalloped neckline of her dress, and she finds herself biting the inside of her cheek to stop from grinning.

 

“You look- nice,” he says, adorably flustered, and his ears pink when a giggle slips past her lips.

 

“Shall we?” she asks, grabbing her purse and checking to make sure she has the voucher from her editor tucked away safe in there.

 

He offers her his arm. “Yes, we shall.”

 

They take his car to get there, and the silence is almost stifling on the way over until he swears under his breath and says, “This feels really awkward, doesn’t it?”

 

She finds herself snorting out a laugh, relaxing a bit in her seat. “Definitely, yeah. It reminds me of the very first date that I went on if I’m being honest.”

 

“Yeah?” he says, glancing sidelong at her for a moment, “What was that like?”

 

That’s all the prompting she needs to delve into it, her very first date at age fifteen, some weird movie that she cannot, for the life of her, remember the name of because they were two busy trying to grope each each other in the dark. James laughs so much that she’s almost afraid he’s going run off the road, but that’s only for a half second because then he’s there telling her  _ his  _ worst date stories, and she’s honestly wondering why she thought this was a bad idea in the first place.

 

After that, the night goes by pretty well; James  _ is  _ one of her best friends, even if they didn’t get off to the best start, and it’s quite fun and easy to sit there and swap stories and jokes as the meal goes on.

 

(“I like the way you roll,” he tells her, waggling his eyebrows ridiculously when she slides over one of hers for him to taste.

 

“If you keep make making lame puns like that, I’m going to stab you with my chopsticks,” she says, even as her mouth betrays her with a twitch. James just winks at her, ruffling his hurricane hair with his free hand.)

 

And okay, so maybe she gets a little distracted by his arms ever so often. Sue her.

 

The restaurant itself is pretty nice too. The food is good, and the chefs prepare it right at the table, which is always fun to watch. She’s not certain that it’s exactly sensual, like it claimed to be on their website, what with the whole dead fish staring at them throughout most of the meal, but it was fun, and they both agree to split a serving of tempura ice cream for dessert.

 

James drives her home at the end of the night, and she leans into him a bit as they walk up the stairs. 

 

It probably says something about her when she says that this is one of her better dates. This one. The one that’s not even real. Honestly, her life is a trainwreck.

 

“Thanks again for doing this,” she says, fishing around her bag for keys and trying to ignore  _ that  _ train of thought.

 

“I told you, it was nothing,” he replies, raking a hand through his hair. “I had fun. Really, there’s nothing I like better than seeing someone yank the spine out of a salmon unflinchingly.”

 

Lily finds herself biting back a laugh. “That’s good,” she says, finally grabbing hold of her keys. The sound of the deadbolt unlocking echoes in the hallway. “I’ll text you later. Don’t forget, tomorrow we have the dance class thing. Do you think you could pick me up from work?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” he says, jamming his hands in his pockets, “At five, right?”

 

“Yep,” she nods, and then before she could chicken out any further, she leans up and presses a kiss to his cheek. “G’night James,” she says, soft, glancing at him one last time before slipping into her flat.

 

She’s already slipped the lock back in place when she hears his response, an equally as soft, “Night, Evans.”

 

* * *

 

 

“So how was your date last night?” Marlene asks, her voice coming through tinny over the phone, and Lily can just picture her expression in her mind, looking like the cat that caught the canary. “Dorcas told me you looked positively  _ radiant  _ at the office this morning. She said you couldn’t stop smiling and it was freaking her out. Did you take home something besides the doggy bag? Do something  _ else  _ doggy instead?”

 

“You are a terrible person,” is all she has to say, holding her phone between her shoulder and ear as she tries to tie up her hair. “A terrible, terrible person, and I can’t believe they consider you fit to teach children.”

 

“I can’t believe they consider you fit to write romance articles,” she shoots back in return, “Honestly, my six year olds handle feelings better than you.”

 

Lily squawks indignantly and the hair band goes flying across the bathroom.

 

“There are no feelings involved,” she says through gritted teeth as she gets down on her knees to look for it. Her skin is prickling with warmth and for some reason she finds herself looking over her shoulder and lowering her voice in the empty bathroom before she continues, “James and I are just friends. That’s it. He’s helping me out.”

 

“Uh huh. Right. Isn’t he picking you up from work?”

 

“Because we’re going to the dance studio for five thirty and it’s like ten minutes away from here compared to thirty from home.” She finally grabs hold of the band and loops it around her hair in a tight ponytail. “Stop reading into things, Mar.”

 

“You’re going dancing together. You’re going to be all pressed up against one another, moving together, and then he’ll look down and you’ll look up and the two of you’ll become entranced and move closer and closer-”

 

“Please save your fanfiction for the internet,” Lily says dryly, shimmying into her sports bra, “Nothing happened, nothing is going to happen, and nothing ever will happen, so just  _ leave it _ .”

 

“Fine,” she grumbles petulantly, “But I’ve seen the Hallmark movies. I know how this ends.”

 

“Good _ bye _ Marlene.”

 

She hangs up before the blonde can say another word, dropping her phone in her oversized tote bag and staring at her reflection in the mirror.

 

“Enough, Evans,” she mutters to herself, mentally pulling on her big girl panties, “It’s just James and it’s just some fancy new exercise trend. You got this.”

 

* * *

 

 

The dance class goes as well as she expected for two people who have not a rhythmic bone in their body.

 

Which is to say, by the time the hour and half was up, she was sore, achy, and frankly more than a bit sweaty, and James wasn’t much better off.

 

(Although, she has to admit that sweaty is definitely a good look on him.)

 

(No, there are no feelings in objectification. Marlene was wrong.)

 

“So that went well,” James says, stretching over to steal her water bottle. She doesn’t even have to energy to protest, not even when he mouths it.

 

She does however have the energy to glare balefully at him. “I want to die. In fact, I’m pretty sure that I  _ am  _ dying.”

 

“Well, technically we’re all dying.”

 

“ _ James _ .”

 

He flashes her that stupid crooked grin that makes her feel warm all over. “What, too morbid for you?”

 

“More like too cheesy,” she mutters, “Speaking of cheese, you know what we should do? Get dinner. I’m thinking something super greasy to replace all those calories we just burnt.”

 

He glances down at his watch. “Well, it is only a bit after seven. Want to get a pizza on the way home? Sirius is out tonight but I figure you and I could make a party of it.”

 

She refuses to let her mind wander anywhere at his words. “Sounds like a plan. I haven’t kicked your ass in Call of Duty for a while,” she says, grinning up at him.

 

He pulls a face, and it just makes her grin wider. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You are unnervingly good at that game.”

 

“I try my best,” she says before holding out a hand for him to pull her up.

 

It stays there linked with hers until they get to his car, and she’s almost hoping that he takes it again when they settle in their seats. He doesn’t though, and Lily ends up sitting on hers so she won’t do anything stupid, like reach out and take it for herself.

 

It makes no sense that she spent over an hour in close quarters with him as they tried to stumble their way through a dance and this is what undoes her.

 

She’s ridiculous and she blames Marlene for putting thoughts of feelings in her head in the first place.

 

“Hey, I’m going to shower before I come over,” she tells him as they walk down the hallway to their respective apartments.

 

“Well I wasn’t going to tell you anything,” he teases, and he’s laughing when she shoves him into the wall.

 

“Prat.”

 

“I do try my best.”

 

Lily flips him off for good measure before slipping into her flat, and his laughter follows her the entire way.

 

She scrubs off quick enough, desperate to get out of her sticky exercise clothes, before throwing her hair up in a messy bun and donning a pair of old sweatpants and a henley. James is already showered, wet hair curling at the nape of his neck, and he sat sprawled off on the couch, a box of pizza on the coffee table in front  him.

 

He grins when she walks into the room, and she feels something squeeze in her chest as she lingers in the doorway.

 

“Ready to get your ass kicked?” he asks, tossing a controller at her.

 

She catches it easily enough and pastes a smarmy smirk across her face. “I should be asking you that question, Potter.”

 

“Bring it, Evans.”

 

His eyes glint behind the specs perched haphazardly on the bridge of his nose, and she kicks his legs so as to make room for her.

 

Flashing him a blindingly white smile as she leans over to grab a slice of pizza, she says, “You asked for it.”

 

* * *

 

 

That’s how most of these dates go.

 

Lily doesn’t exactly plan it like that, but the thing is that both she and James are pretty low key people. Date wise that is. While they don’t mind going out and taking part in grand gestures, she knows that they much rather be at home, taking the piss out of Sirius and shit talking on the couch.

 

(The heart stuttering and terribly clammy palms start to occur more often however, both when they’re home and on a date, and Lily is going to pretend that it’s just a sign that she’s coming down with a cold or something. Yep. That’s it.)

 

Some of the dates are fun, like the aquarium trip, but most of them, while not bad, just weren’t her cup of tea.

 

Except for the French Restaurant one. That was bad. In fact, bad doesn’t even seem to cover it.

 

“I feel like I should apologise for putting you through that,” she says as they walk out of the place at the end of their date.

 

His shrug is kind of awkward what with his arm around her shoulders. “Would you believe me if I said I’ve been through worse?”

 

“Probably not.”

 

“Well I have,” he huffs, lightly pinching her side, “This reminded me of all those charity galas I was forced to sit through when I was younger.”

 

She glances sidelong at him. “I’m pretty sure the food was better though.”

 

A pause. “Somewhat,” he says albeit, “It was still incredibly white though. It’s like you all don’t know that there are other seasonings besides salt and pepper.”

 

She finds herself muffling her laughter with her palm. “I’m not even going to argue with you.”

 

“You better not; I once saw you cry over a pack of crisps.”

 

“That was one time! And they were very spicy!”

 

“It’s because you’re a wimp, Evans, and everyone knows it.”

 

“Take that back!”

 

The bickering continues all the way home, the two of them going back and forth like a tennis match from the cab to the apartment complex until James swears, when she places her hand on the doorknob.

 

“What’s wrong?” asks Lily, frowning at him.

 

“Er, nothing,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. At her unimpressed stare he slumps and admits, “I was going to ask you if you wanted to stop for a bite before we made it back home, but then I got caught up arguing with  _ someone _ .”

 

“As if you don’t give as good as you get,” she shoots back, mostly as a knee jerk reaction. It’s only now that he mentioned it does she realise that she is sort of hungry. Nothing at the restaurant was exactly filling, and they both had far too much wine to go to sleep on an empty stomach.

 

So Lily just shrugs and says, “I’m pretty sure I have some frozen waffles somewhere if you wanna come over.”

 

He snorts. “Oh please; those things are like cardboard. How about this: I make you blueberry pancakes and you bring over that bottle of red I know you’ve been saving for a rainy day.”

 

“You drive a hard bargain,” she says, pretending to consider it, “But yeah, okay, I’m in.”

 

Once again there’s that little flip in her chest when he grins at her, and she finds herself melting a little, turning into nothing more than a Lily shaped grease stain on the ancient carpet that lines the hallway.

 

She’s still a little dazed, watching as he slips into his own flat before she can even think about fishing her keys out of her clutch.

 

Ten minutes later she’s in his kitchen, perched cross legged on the countertop while James putters around the place. She swirls her wine around in the glass, interspacing each sip with a bite of chocolate she grabbed from the fridge on a whim as she watches him.

 

(“You’ll ruin your appetite,” he grumbles, though that doesn’t stop him from popping a block of it in his mouth.)

 

It’s a little known fact about James that she’s picked up in the year that she’s known him: he has this latent talent for cooking. Anything he can think of really, and he almost never follows the recipe, ending up with enough food to feel a small army.

 

That’s another thing that solidified their friendship; James showing up out of nowhere one night asking if she wants to come for dinner because he made too much pasta. She probably shouldn’t have agreed to go off somewhere with the stranger in her building, but he was wearing a faded Star Wars t shirt and rumpling up his hair, almost afraid to make eye contact with her. It was endearing.

 

Now she can even recognise his cooking mood swings: curry is when he’s thinking hard and working through a problem, homemade bread or scones or any kind of dough he has to really work at when he’s angry, soup when he’s upset.

 

Pancakes and waffles when he’s happy.

 

Lily takes another sip of wine, letting her legs drop down, feet knocking against the cupboard.

 

“For you, madam,” he says with a theatrical bow as he slides a plate across. It’s already drenched in melted butter and honey, just the way she likes it.

 

“You’re such a nerd,” she sighs before digging in. She almost moans at the first bite; James really does make the best pancakes.

 

“A nerd who’s feeding you,” he says, and pokes her with his fork.

 

She ducks her head, hiding her smile as they eat in silence.

 

When they’re finished, James takes the dishes, giving them a quick rinse before slipping them into the dishwasher. It’s only eleven, but she’s had far too much wine and her world is hazy and rose tinted.

 

It’s nice in a way that it shouldn’t be, not really, but she doesn’t care, warm and content with how things are.

 

“I should probably get going,” she says at last, stretching a little. She’s still in her fancy dress from dinner, and she realises that James is still dressed too, his suit jacket hanging off a kitchen chair.

 

“Want me to walk you to your door,” he jokes, and she breathes out a laugh.

 

“No, that’s fine, I think I can handle it,” she says, lips quirked into a small smile just for him.

 

She moves to jump down from the countertop, but all the wine must have gone to her head as she misjudges the distance, stumbling into James. His hand immediately go to her waist, holding her steady, and her head barely brushes his chin.

 

Up close, she can smell him, something sweet and buttery like the pancakes they just shared masking the sharper more distinct scent of  _ boy _ .

 

There’s that flutter in her chest once again, and for a moment she can see nothing but  _ James _ . She can feel his breath stutter, just for a moment, before she steps back, out of his space. 

 

“I should really go,” she says, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

 

“Um, yeah. Right,” he says, decidedly not looking at her.

 

In a spur of the moment decision, Lily rolls up on her toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth.

 

She leaves him standing frozen in the kitchen, slipping out with a hasty ‘bye’ before she can do any more incriminating actions.

 

* * *

 

 

After she gets back from her last date with James- a trip to the pier during which he made her laugh so hard that water came through her nose- she calls Marlene.

 

“So, just out of curiosity, how do your six year olds handle their feelings?”

 

On the other end of the phone she hears Marlene cackle, laughing until she’s actually almost  _ sobbing  _ across the phone.

 

“Never mind,” Lily snaps, hanging up the phone before she can even begin to make sense of Marlene’s breathless attempts at speech, cheeks on fire.

 

* * *

 

 

Of course, she can’t get away that easily.

 

That same afternoon she opens her door to find Mary and Marlene on the other side with necessaries: a pint of ice cream, chocolate biscuits, and nineties rom coms.

 

“I’m sure we can find all of those on Netflix,” she says, her voice cracking embarrassingly, and they both surge forward to engulf her in a bear hug.

 

Later, when they ice cream is gone and they’ve made a significant dent in the biscuits, Marlene turns to her and says, “In the interest of our friendship, I’ll withhold saying I told you so until you actually sort out your shit.”

 

Lily glares weakly at her. “I don’t have any shit to sort out. I just came to a realisation that this might be a bit more than friendship and now I’m dealing with it.” She takes the last biscuit from the tray, throwing the empty pack in the general direction of the trash. “Now I’ve dealt with it,” she says, stuffing it in her mouth.

 

Marlene blows a raspberry at her while Mary sighs and says, “Repressing your feelings isn’t dealing with them.”

 

“There’s nothing to  _ deal with _ . James is  _ my friend _ .”

 

“Bullshit,” says Mary, and the viciousness in her tone it startles them both. “That boy looks at you like you’ve hung the moon.”

 

Lily gapes at her. “No he doesn’t.”

 

She’s rewarded by twin scoffs. “Yes he does,” they say simultaneously.

 

Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she settles on, “He never said anything. Sirius never said anything. Sirius would have told me.”

 

“No one thought they would have to  _ tell  _ you,” Marlene says, rolling her eyes. “We didn’t think you were  _ blind _ .”

 

“Oh, sod off Marlene.”

 

“Look,” Mary interrupts them both, “All the dates are said and done, right? So either you figure out a way to tell him how you feel, or you sit here, having it eat you from the inside out and watch as he slowly moves on. Your pick.”

 

Lily feels her face pale at the suggestion. Meanwhile, Marlene whistles low and says, “Damn, Mare, I didn’t think you had it in you to go  _ there _ .”

 

Meanwhile Lily can hear her blood thundering in her ear. “You don’t think he really would, would you?”

 

Mary stares at her reproachfully. “I don’t know, Lils. But ask yourself this: do you really want to wait long enough to find out?”

 

If the leaden weight that has suddenly made home in her stomach is telling her anything, it’s no. No she doesn’t.

 

* * *

 

 

While the unexpected visit from her friends was certainly… illuminating, she does have to get rid of them eventually. Especially since she has an article to finish and submit to her editor before midnight.

 

So after shooing them off just as the sun begins to set, Lily brews a pot of strong coffee and sets to work, sequestering herself in a corner with her laptop.

 

She’s already written most of it, large chunks of text after each date, and all that’s left is for her to clean it up, but for some reason, her writing feels off. It almost feels fake, rereading her words as she tries to hype up the date ideas. If she really was being honest, she would include the aftermaths, which, in her opinion, were usually the best part of the night.

 

She bites her lip as she regards the article, wondering if she should really include it.

 

Her fingers hover over the keyboard, unsure for a moment, and then she’s there, halfway through the paragraph before she even realises it. Besides, her editor can just cut it if she doesn’t like it.

 

_ Of course, everyone has their own version of the perfect date, and while all of these ranged in terms of fun, the best parts for me was being able to come home with the person I love. There was nothing better than the two of us joking around and just being able to talk in a way that doesn’t seem possible in a public setting. If there’s one thing that I can take away from this little experiment, it’s that I realised the true extent of my feelings, that he makes me happy _ .

 

She does write some more drivel, trying to balance out what is a truly sappy paragraph with some dry wit, and at ten minutes to eleven, she sends it in, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

 

Objectively, she knows that it’s good writing, but it also feels like she left a piece of herself in there, leaving her vulnerable and open.

 

She drains her mug with a sigh and shuts down the laptop. 

 

Fingers crossed that she didn’t inadvertently ruin anything, and she goes to bed, nervous, but at the same time weirdly relaxed, almost as if she got something off her chest.

 

* * *

 

 

Valentine’s Day is uneventful.

 

She goes to work, reviews some new projects, and decidedly does  _ not  _ check to see what changes her editor made to her piece. Instead, she treats herself to the most expensive chocolate bar in the vending machine on the third floor, capitalism be damned.

 

Later, she gets home and is debating whether to watch  _ Legally Blonde _ or  _ Clueless _ while she waits for her take out to come in when there’s a knock at door.

 

Frowning, Lily rolls off the couch and pads over to her front door, pulling it open to reveal a skittish looking James, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

 

“Hey,” she says, a note of surprise colouring her tone. She hasn’t been  _ ignoring  _ him since the whole realisation of feelings thing, but she also hasn’t exactly sought him out either.

 

His head snaps up, and he rucks a hand through his hair, making it stick up every which way. “Er, hi.”

 

“Something you needed?” she asks

 

James gives her that halfhearted shrug, still looking frazzled in a way that would normally be endearing, but instead it just leaves her concerned.

 

“Sirius is out so I figured I would, um, stop by. If you wanted company, I mean. You could be busy. Feel free to tell me to sod right off if needed.”

 

Lily ducks her head, feeling that now familiar warmth settle in the base of her chest. “I’m not busy,” she says, holding the door open for him to step in, “I was just getting ready to pick a movie before my take out showed up. You know; normal Tuesday stuff.”

 

That seems to loosen him a bit and he flashes her that crooked smile of his. “Totally normal Tuesday stuff,” he agrees as he brushes past her on his way in. He smells like soap, as though he was freshly showered, and Lily tries not to be to conspicuous as she stands in his space, just breathing him in, while he toes off his shoes.

 

“I ordered Thai,” she says after sliding the deadbolt back in place. “I bought extra because I was gonna carry the leftovers for lunch tomorrow, but I can just buy something instead.”

 

“Or you could learn to actually cook,” he counters, flopping down on the couch, “Cooking is a necessary life skill.”

 

“I can cook.”

 

“Toast doesn’t count.”

 

She blows a raspberry at him when she curls up next to him on the couch, and tries not to be offended when he imperceptibly leans away.

 

“Uh, what are you watching?” he asks after a beat of awkward silence.

 

“Probably _ Legally Blonde _ . I’m in the mood to see Elle Woods verbally eviscerate someone,” she says, frowning at him. It’s not like James to be wound up this tight. Hesitating for a second, she places a hand on his bicep, feeling him jump at the touch. “Are you alright?”

 

“Fine,” he says, quick. She doesn’t get to ask anything else, for that’s when their food arrives, and James all but flies out of his seat to go collect.

 

By the time he comes back, Lily has already laid out drinks and napkins, and the beginning introductions start playing across the screen. She let’s the subject matter drop for now, but still can’t help but look at him out of the corner of her eye ever so often, noting how twitchy and tense he remains to be throughout the  entire dinner.

 

It’s not until Elle can be heard in court, discussing a murder that he blurts out, “I read your article.”

 

Lily stops mid chew, and then has to force herself to swallow before she can stammer out, “W-what?”

 

“Your article,” he repeats, eyes trained on the tv, “The one that I, um, helped you with? Yeah, I read it.”

 

“Right.”

 

“It was good,” he offers, absentmindedly swirling his noodles around his fork.

 

“That’s, ah- good to know.”

 

He nods, and they lapse back into a silence. She wants to ask him which version was published since she was too much of a wimp to check it herself, but the words get lodged in her throat. Instead, she tries to focus on calming her racing heart, but just when she thinks that she has  _ that  _ under control, he asks,

 

“Did you mean it?”

 

His voice cracks on the words, and she winces.

 

“Mean what?” she mumbles, feeling her face go red. She’s suddenly unable to look at him, choosing instead to scruff her shoes against the floor.

 

“ _ Evans _ .”

 

Lily continues to sit there, lips pressed into a tight line as she refuses to answer him, staring at the carpet. The tv has been reduced to a dull buzz in the background and the unintentional silence is dragging, albeit not exactly an uncomfortable one as they both try to figure out what to say from there.

 

“Lily…  _ please _ ,” he whispers, and how can she deny him this, when he’s looking at her in a way that sends skin on fire.

 

She takes a shuddering breath.

 

“I think I started falling in love with you after the second time I took you out,” she starts, and she can feel the moment he looks over at her. She doesn’t look back though, choosing to stare at a loose thread on the hem of her dress instead. “It’s- remember that shitty, overpriced French place we went too? We spent over a hundred pounds on some stupid three course meal that couldn’t even count as a snack and then you took me home and made pancakes. You tried to make a smiley face with the syrup but it just went everywhere instead.”

 

She can still remember it; the two of sharing a cheap bottle wine that she brought over from her apartment while he puttered around the kitchen, sitting on the countertop with her legs knocking against the cupboards as they tried to keep their drunken ramblings to a whisper lest they wake up Sirius. The world was faded and soft at the edges, and it was the first time her heart stumbled when he smiled up at her, nothing but warmth.

 

“I can’t- I don’t even know when I went from maybe to totally in love with you, but I did, and here am,” she says, finally looking up and offering him a weak smile.

 

James looks gobsmacked, staring up at her in awe. Finally, he shakes himself awake, reaching over to grab her hand.

 

“I honestly don’t even know when it happened for me,” he says, laughing a little at the end, and she finds herself biting back a grin. “I can’t remember a time not being in love you with.”

 

Laughter bubbles out of her, uncontrollable, and filled with relief. It the kind that takes root her stomach, blossoming in her lungs, and she finds herself leaning into James’ shoulder even while he shakes with mirth too.

 

It’s when he hooks an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close enough to press a whisper of a kiss to the crown of her head like he’s done a million times before, does she  _ get it _ .

 

Love on it’s own is daunting and scary, but being in love with James Potter? It’s the easiest thing she’s ever done, can feel it warming her chest when he smiles that crooked little grin reserved just for her, or takes her hand, or does something as mundane as just shooting off a good morning text.

 

So yeah, she gets it.

 

And it’s with that thought in mind that she leans up and kisses him.

 

Lily would be lying if she says she hasn’t thought about it before, more so over the past couples of days than ever before, and it was always a picture perfect moment, like something straight out of _The Notebook_.

 

Instead, the angle is all wrong, and the kiss is more tooth than lip because they’re both smiling so much. His glasses press uncomfortably into the bridge of her nose, but it just makes her kiss him harder, cling to him fiercer.

 

When they do pull back, he’s smiling down at her, crooked, with soft eyes and a hand tenderly tracing the arc of her cheekbone.

 

“Not to ruin the moment,” he says, nosing her jaw, “But that pretty terrible. I think we can do better.”

 

She giggles, smoothing a hand across the breadth of his shoulders. “We have time,” she says, softly, “We have all the time in the world.”

 

This time, his grin is blinding, and he leans forward to sneak another kiss from her, this time hard and breathtaking, leaving her dizzy.

 

“I’m holding you to that,” he says, and she just responds by drawing him back down for another kiss.

 

(Her friends never let her live it down, the whole romantic love confession on Valentine’s Day, and Lily grouses for show. After all, she has James. She’s definitely coming out on top.)

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on [tumblr](http://hiddenpolkadots.tumblr.com/) i'm always on there screaming into the void.


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